"Spring Break At Skull Beach"
Feb. 20th, 2023 03:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"Spring Break At Skull Beach"
3/23/2023
I.
In a long career fighting the Midnight War, Jeremy Bane had seldom felt more uncomfortable or out of place. He stood next to a portable kiosk selling dismal junk food like questionable hot dogs, lukewarm soda and limp French fries in cardboard holders. Swarming energetically all over the white sand beach were hundreds of giddy young people ranging from eighteen to twenty-two, most wearing as little clothing as possible, nearly all of them saturated with alcohol and an assortment of recreational drugs. Hormones were boiling over.
It was seventy-eight degrees this last week of March, but dry and breezy and much more comfortable than he had expected. He was wearing his inevitable outfit of black slacks, turtleneck and sports jacket, practically his trademark. Sixty-five but looking twenty years younger, the Dire Wolf had some white flecks in his short black hair but few other signs of age. He was visibly trim and fit, moving with ease. To his surprise, many of the college girls showed obvious interest in him. Some stared with a smile, some stole glances but many seemed drawn to him. If he had been interested, he undoubtedly would have done well picking one or two up.
The idea didn't even occur to him. He was all business. This was Plata Playa, "silver beach" so named because of the way its white sands looked in the moonlight. But in the history of gruesome crime, it was often known as Skull Beach. He was here in hopes of preventing another massacre of innocents. Although, gazing out over this frenzied crowd, it seemed unlikely any creature of the night would have room to strike. Maybe the omens would prove false.
There was Hallowell House, half a mile up the beach, surrounded by broken rock and withered grass. A one-room shack of plain unpainted boards with a single door and two windows no larger than a magazine. The slate roof was sagging at one end, but it did not seem to be in immediate dangerous of collapse. Circling the shack was a chest-high chain link fence with a padlocked gate. As far as he knew, that gate had not been opened once since it had been installed thirty-one years earlier... when early morning strollers had found the white skull of Lorraine Hallowell sitting by the front door.
His stomach rumbled audibly. One price for his enhanced speed was a metabolism that burned through calories without mercy. Bane looked over the food for sale. He was not fussy but even so, the offerings weren't appealing. He settled on two film-wrapped ham and cheese sandwiches, a big bag of cashews and a bottle of water. The extortionate prices didn't surprise him. Going back to surveying the mob, the Dire Wolf devoured everything so fast he hardly tasted it and dropped the wrappers in an open metal garbage can close at hand.
An absolutely gorgeous co-ed grinned at him. She was wearing cut-off jeans and an open vest held closed by one button. Between the firm young body shining with health and the lightly freckled face under a mane of thick black hair, she was almost unbearably attractive. "Hiya, did you see the Spook Sisters?"
That caught even Bane by surprise. "No. The Spook Sisters are here? Where are they?"
"They've got a table over there, by the trees. Come on, let's go check 'em out." She took Bane by the arm, deliberately pressing one breast against him. "My name's Gretchen, I'm only here for three days before I have to go back to Buffalo. What's your name?"
"Jeremy. Jeremy Bane, from Manhattan. I shouldn't be surprised the Spook Sisters turn up here, this beach is supposed to be haunted."
"Yeah, haunted by broken hearts and brief romances," she laughed. "I like older men. Guys my age are so dopey, I want someone who has lived life a little."
The Dire Wolf seemed completely uninterested in her, scanning the beach instead as if expecting an ambush. "I understand the sisters investigate weird events. Ghosts, strange animal sightings, mysterious disappearances."
"Yeah, they're unironically hilarious. I love the younger sister Alistar, she never listens to anyone and always torments the bigger sister. Emmaline's funny too in her own way, very sarcastic. But to be honest, if you expect anything really scary, you're out of luck. They never find any genuine phenomena."
"Just as well," Bane said. As single-minded and repressed as he was, the young woman pressing up against him and gazing up warmly made him uneasy. He decided to add, "From what I can see, they aren't equipped to handle anything dangerous."
Stretching up as she walked, Gretchen asked, "What color are your eyes anyway? Blue? Very light blue, almost like silver?"
"Grey. It looks as if the Spook Sisters have gathered some fans."
Seated on lawn chairs at a folding card table were two young women in matching outfits of white shorts and red cotton shirts tied across the midriff. They were surrounded by more than a dozen excited followers who were all talking over each other. With Gretchen still hanging on him, the Dire Wolf watched and reviewed what he knew about them.
Gossip is rampant in the Midnight War, even about those only peripherally involved. He knew the two Spook Sisters were from Albania but had become naturalized US citizens. They had become huge Twitch stars and YouTube celebrities, with an estimated combined worth of three million dollars. The taller one, with a thick ponytail which reached her shoulders, was Emmaline. The shorter, more animated sister was Alistar. They were famous for their constant trashtalking of each other and for the random daredevil stunts they staged. Recently they had been raising money to support a rescue animal sanctuary.
None of this particularly interested Bane. He was annoyed by the Spook Sisters because they rushed to the scene of any paranormal reports, where they walked around and streamed their opinions. He felt that they both scared away any Midnight War creatures and trampled over any evidence he might find. There was also the chance that they might encounter a Skinwalker or Troll and their careers would end abruptly as they were killed and eaten.
And now they were here, at the infamous Skull Beach at the same time he was. It was no coincidence.
Gently but firmly, he disengaged himself from the girl's grip. "I think I'd better talk to them, away from everyone else. They're heading for danger. Thank you, Gretchen." And he stepped away.
To his surprise, those huge brown eyes filled with tears. "What? That's it? I.. I am right here, almost putting myself on a plate as an offer and all you can say is 'thank you, go away?'"
Although he wasn't good at being gentle or putting kindness in his voice, the Dire Wolf tried. "I'm here on business. Very serious. I'm sorry."
Gretchen gave him a caustic glare, spun on her heel and stormed off stiff-legged. I'm really out of my element, Bane thought, I don't know how to deal with normal civilian Humans anymore. Then he heard a hoarse woman's voice calling to him from the Spook Sisters' table, "Oh My Godddd, look! Look, Emmaline, that has to be Jeremy Bane! You know, the Dire Wolf?"
II.
A dozen baffled young faces twisted around to stare at him with no recognition whatsoever. That suited him fine. Staying as unknown to the public as possible was vital to his survival, and he was not pleased at having both his real name and his war name shouted out like that. He stepped forward.
Both of the Spook Sisters had jumped to their feet and were beckoning him closer. "Hi, hi, hi! We're in the same line of work, we know all about you!" gushed the younger one Alistar. "You're a legend, absolute legend, your statue is in our hypothetical Monster Buster Hall of Fame."
"You are Jeremy Bane, right?" asked the older Emmaline with more restraint. "We've never actually met. Photos of you are hard to find."
"Hello," Bane replied without enthusiasm. "You're the Spook Sisters. Emmaline and Alistar Dibra."
"That's us, three million followers and merchandise available.."
She was cut off by her litle sister bouncing up and down in glee. "I can't believe it, I can't believe it, this is so great! The legend come to life. You know what they say: When you see a werewolf running for its life, Jeremy Bane is chasing it."
"Wait a minute..." began Bane but caught himself as he realized how big the crowd was, and how many eyes were fixated on him. "I want to speak privately with one or both of you."
Alistar rattled off a long laugh, "You and a hundred other guys here! EVERYone wants to get one or both of us off out of sight for a little 'talk.' Kidding, kidding, but holup I can see you're serious, you look like a judge about to read a verdict, not that I have ever been in a situation where I faced a judge..."
"Stop. Just stop," broke in Emmaline. "Honestly, the doctors say she doesn't have ADHD but I've seen her get distracted lighting a match. Mr Bane, please excuse her. I will go with you away from everyone and you can tell me what you want."
While Alistar slapped the table and announced that she would autograph any body parts not covered by a bathing suit, the older sister beckoned for Bane to follow her toward a garish bright green SUV parked up by the highway. By the time they got there, the few curious fans had dropped away. Emmaline leaned up against her car, fished a pack of American Spirit from a hip pocket and lit one up.
"We did recognize you right away. I never thought I'd meet you."
Decades of experience and Kumundu training made it automatic for Bane to assess this women in great detail. From body language and micro-expressions and subvocal tremors, he concluded she was not under any unusual stress. She was not intending to lie or deceive. From the way she walked and how she placed her weight, he decided she had not had training in any martial art or even street fighting. In a more general sense, Bane analyzed her appearance. Emmaline Dibra was in above average health but had a slightly diminished lung capacity for her age. There were signs she drank to the borderline of alcoholism. And she had injured her right knee recently, no more than a week earlier.
All this came to him in almost instantly. When he decided she was no significant threat either physically or psychologically, he relaxed in her presence as much as he was able to. "I'm not much for Twitter or Facebook or any of that, but I've heard of you and Alistar."
"Yeah, you don't have any online presence. That's odd. You could be pulling in serious money with a little exposure."
"Miss Dibra..."
"Please, call me Emmaline. That's what Alastir and I were wondering about you. You've been at this forever, but everyone says you don't charge fees and you don't ask for donations. How the hell do you make a living at this game?"
She looked up straight into Bane's pale grey eyes and felt a slight shiver at the impact those eyes held. Her cigarette burned unnoticed between her fingers as she started to wonder about this man.
"Emmaline, then. We are not in the same business. You provide entertainment for your fans. You walk around a darkened house or graveyard and they get a cheap thrill at the trappings of horror. But there's never anything actually supernatural there. It's a fun little game."
"Well, of course," she snorted. "What else could it be?"
The Dire Wolf took his eyes off her and looked back of that Springbreakers on the beach. He folded his arms across his chest. "That's fine. I'm not going to try to convince you differently. The less you know about the Midnight War, the safer you are. Think about this. You know there are groups of brutal, heartless people in the world who use torture and murder as basic tools. The drug cartels, espionage organizations, human traffickers. If some of them hauled you off in a black van, you'd never be seen again. Am I right?"
"Well...yeah. I don't like to think about that stuff. But what's that have to do with our game?"
"I'm not part of your game. I'm from a different, secret underworld that exists unseen all around you. I deal with threats like those killers from drug cartels or spy agencies, only more dangerous. That's why I want to warn you and your sister not to stay in Hallowell House tonight."
That made Emmalina snicker, then snort, then surrender to a full blown guffaw. "Heh. Give me a second. Oh come on, Jeremy. You put on a good act but let's be serious. Alistar and I will make enough tonight for a cruise around the Aegean. I've always wanted to see Greece. Don't try to scare me off. Man..."
Bane did not visibly react and his voice remained detached. "All I can do is warn you. Your safety is your own business."
III.
Defying all forecasts, cold rain had begun coming down at eleven that night. The beach had emptied, with scattered blankets, hats and frisbees left as prints of the partiers. An attempt at building a bonfire had gotten nowhere against the drizzle. Only thirty people remained, gathered not down by the water but up by Hallowell House.
Huddled under umbrellas and blankets draped over their heads, diehard Spook Sisters fans watched as Alistar and Emmaline held up their Iphones and recorded the scene. They had not brought their usual equipment or assistant. Two uniformed police officers had been watching for a while but had been called away to more crucial duties. There didn't seem to be any impending trouble here tonight and the rain had driven the Springbreakers to invade local bars.
Off to one side, his collar up but otherwise unmoved by the chill drizzle, Jeremy Bane watched unhappily. He had seldom felt more conflicted. Those two young women, unarmed and untrained, were going into Hallowell House in a minute to dare any forces of darkness. Normally, he would dismiss this as mere show business but a nagging sense of alarm troubled him. He had learned to trust his instincts.
The Spook Sisters were sharing a clear plastic umbrella and, as seemed constant with them, were arguing. "I'm so wet I might as well just lie in down in the rain and get it over with," Alistar griped. "This is like the day you didn't pick me up at school, remember? Seven years old, standing in the downpour and shivering for HOURS because you forgot all about me, I stood there and watched the bus pull away but did I get on? NO! Because I trusted my big sister to come get me..."
"Alistar! You know the car wouldn't start and I couldn't even text you because you had left your kid phone on the breakfast table again." Emmaline caught herself and turned back to the crowd, holding up a sheet of paper safe within a sealed plastic envelope. "Friends, I have here written permission from Mr and Mrs Francis Gwynneford to enter the property as they will. In return, they have asked that we donate all of tonight's donations to their chosen charity, the St Theresa Home for Children. Can we all agree that's a worthy cause?"
Amid the enthusiastic cheers from the crowd, Alistar could be heard muttering, "Minus our expenses for this trip, that hotel room cost as much as a good used car."
Keeping out of everyone's line of sight, Bane unclipped the Link from his belt. The Trom device looked like a remarkably thin phone no thicker than a few playing cards stacked together but it was decades advanced of anything Human technology could match. He found the Spook Sisters' livestream. Bane was not interested in social media but he had to know how to navigate for his work. Sound came in clear and sharp through the inconspicious flesh-colored earpiece he tucked in.
Glancing from the screen over at the front of the shack, the Dire Wolf frowned even more than his usual sour expression. Two dozen excited fans were yelling questions and encouragement. For all they knew, this was going to be like taking a tour of an amusement park haunted house. He prayed that would be all it was, but he didn't have much hope.
The younger sister placed one hand on the padlock holding the gate shut and held up two keys on a red cord. "They trusted me with the keys because Emmy loses everything, when she gets old and gets dementia, no one will be able to tell, one time she called me to say she couldn't find her phone and I was like dude, how are you calling me and she goes oh yeah.."
"Do you need help unlocking that, dear one?"
Managing to get the gate open, Alistar started ranting into her phone, "There you are, the first time anyone has been in this yard for thirty-one years, yes that was when someone going for a walk at dawn saw a humanskull sitting at the door of this hut, yes! A human skull. All that was over found of Lorraine Halloewell, that poor woman, and after the police were done poking around, her family locked everything up and swore to leave it untouched until it fell down. But we are here! Tonight! And your favorite ghostbreakers the Spook Sisters will show you inside..."
Interrupting her younger sister once again, Emmaline said, "That is why this area is known to locals as Skull Beach, as I'm sure all you lovers of unsolved mysteries know. Over the years, people on this beach have reported seeing a flicker of eerie blue light in the windows of Hallowell House or heard a woman's scream echoing out over the waters. Yet it's obvious even from outside the gate that the seal on the door has not been broken and the windows do not open."
"Will you PLEASE let me finish?"
"I would if you ever did finish," snapped Emmaline. "Let's get the door open while it's still nighttime."
Not amused in the slightest by the banter, Jeremy Bane watched the scene with cold rain dripping down his face. He was so annoyed by the Spook Sisters that the temptation came to him he should leave them to their choice. He had a comfortable warm dry hotel suite waiting a hundred yards away. But no. All his instincts told him the Midnight War was stirring tonight.
Alistar unlocked the front door and pulled it open. "Listen to those hinges creak, very atmospheric I'm sure, got your giant Maglite ready?"
"All set," replied Emmaline. The two sisters stepped through the doorway and those outside watching caught a glimpse of the interior. Without warning, a gale-force blast of cold wind rushed over the area to make everyone shudder violently. And the wind slammed the door shut again.
Bane could hear fans saying how that wind couldn't have been faked and maybe this time the Spook Sisters were going to encounter the genuine Unknown. He thought the same. The prospect didn't excite him as it did the crowd. He was ready to intervene.
On the livestream, hundreds of thousands of people worldwide saw the long-hidden inside of the Hallowell House as the brilliant beam of the flashlight moved over simple furniture covered with decades of dust. There were framed photos on the walls, a small black and white TV on a stand, a single shelf with a handful of paperbacks. Cobwebs stretched across the corners of the room. There did not seem to have been running water, as no sink or toilet was in evidence but a gas stove showed that propane had been in use.
"I don't mind admitting I'm getting the creeps big time," Alistar rattled off in her usual flow of chatter. "This place smells dead, it's like when we had a mouse die in the walls, remember? Nothing covered up that smell, what did that woman die off anyway, what happened to her body and how come only her skull was left outside, I dunno Emmaline, do you feel like someone is in here with us..."
"Hush for a minute, just one minute," pleaded her older sister. "I think I hear someone breathing."
As she said that, her flashlight flickered and went out.
IV.
The crowd outside the shack took a collective gasp but then fell silent. On their screens, they saw the faces of the Spook Sisters as the two young women turned on the flash of their phones in near panic. But the relief of the fans was brief. The livestream started to break up, both image and sound became dim.
"Do you see those faces?" demaded Alistar, "There! And there! They're laughing at us, Emmaline, the faces are all around, they've getting closer..."
At the edge of the crowd outside, Bane snapped off his Link and clipped it back on his belt. The silver daggers sheathed to his forearms under his sleeves had been growing warm and now they were so hot they stung. Malicious gralic energy was nearby. There was no reason to wait any longer.
"Emmaline, Emmaline, my phone went dead! Where are you?" screamed Alistar.
The Dire Wolf shoved roughly through the crowd and through the open gate. He planted his feet, drew torque up through his body into a blow from his open palm that snapped the lock on the front door and he dove inside. A second later, a great gout of black smoke shot out from that open doorway to dissipate in the rain. Then Bane emerged with an arm around each of the Spook Sisters, still gripping a silver dagger in each hand.
The three of them tumbled to the dried dead grass in the yard outside the shack. Steam rose from their bodies as if they had been yanked out of a furnace. The agitated fans rushed over to kneel beside them, all talking over each other.
Bane recovered instantly, up on his knees and then leaping to his feet. He sheathed his daggers with trembling hands, but then pointed at a nearby boy. "You! Call 911 right now, get an ambulance here." He had found that giving orders to an individual produced better results than just a general demand.
"It's not possible, I know that this doesn't happen because hair grows out from the roots and it can't change color like that..." Alistar was whimpering.
"This is not a natural phenomenon," Bane replied as he turned Emmaline over as gently as he could. She was in shock, her eyes did not focus on anything and she was shaking visibly. The long thick hair was white as cotton.
2/23/2023
3/23/2023
I.
In a long career fighting the Midnight War, Jeremy Bane had seldom felt more uncomfortable or out of place. He stood next to a portable kiosk selling dismal junk food like questionable hot dogs, lukewarm soda and limp French fries in cardboard holders. Swarming energetically all over the white sand beach were hundreds of giddy young people ranging from eighteen to twenty-two, most wearing as little clothing as possible, nearly all of them saturated with alcohol and an assortment of recreational drugs. Hormones were boiling over.
It was seventy-eight degrees this last week of March, but dry and breezy and much more comfortable than he had expected. He was wearing his inevitable outfit of black slacks, turtleneck and sports jacket, practically his trademark. Sixty-five but looking twenty years younger, the Dire Wolf had some white flecks in his short black hair but few other signs of age. He was visibly trim and fit, moving with ease. To his surprise, many of the college girls showed obvious interest in him. Some stared with a smile, some stole glances but many seemed drawn to him. If he had been interested, he undoubtedly would have done well picking one or two up.
The idea didn't even occur to him. He was all business. This was Plata Playa, "silver beach" so named because of the way its white sands looked in the moonlight. But in the history of gruesome crime, it was often known as Skull Beach. He was here in hopes of preventing another massacre of innocents. Although, gazing out over this frenzied crowd, it seemed unlikely any creature of the night would have room to strike. Maybe the omens would prove false.
There was Hallowell House, half a mile up the beach, surrounded by broken rock and withered grass. A one-room shack of plain unpainted boards with a single door and two windows no larger than a magazine. The slate roof was sagging at one end, but it did not seem to be in immediate dangerous of collapse. Circling the shack was a chest-high chain link fence with a padlocked gate. As far as he knew, that gate had not been opened once since it had been installed thirty-one years earlier... when early morning strollers had found the white skull of Lorraine Hallowell sitting by the front door.
His stomach rumbled audibly. One price for his enhanced speed was a metabolism that burned through calories without mercy. Bane looked over the food for sale. He was not fussy but even so, the offerings weren't appealing. He settled on two film-wrapped ham and cheese sandwiches, a big bag of cashews and a bottle of water. The extortionate prices didn't surprise him. Going back to surveying the mob, the Dire Wolf devoured everything so fast he hardly tasted it and dropped the wrappers in an open metal garbage can close at hand.
An absolutely gorgeous co-ed grinned at him. She was wearing cut-off jeans and an open vest held closed by one button. Between the firm young body shining with health and the lightly freckled face under a mane of thick black hair, she was almost unbearably attractive. "Hiya, did you see the Spook Sisters?"
That caught even Bane by surprise. "No. The Spook Sisters are here? Where are they?"
"They've got a table over there, by the trees. Come on, let's go check 'em out." She took Bane by the arm, deliberately pressing one breast against him. "My name's Gretchen, I'm only here for three days before I have to go back to Buffalo. What's your name?"
"Jeremy. Jeremy Bane, from Manhattan. I shouldn't be surprised the Spook Sisters turn up here, this beach is supposed to be haunted."
"Yeah, haunted by broken hearts and brief romances," she laughed. "I like older men. Guys my age are so dopey, I want someone who has lived life a little."
The Dire Wolf seemed completely uninterested in her, scanning the beach instead as if expecting an ambush. "I understand the sisters investigate weird events. Ghosts, strange animal sightings, mysterious disappearances."
"Yeah, they're unironically hilarious. I love the younger sister Alistar, she never listens to anyone and always torments the bigger sister. Emmaline's funny too in her own way, very sarcastic. But to be honest, if you expect anything really scary, you're out of luck. They never find any genuine phenomena."
"Just as well," Bane said. As single-minded and repressed as he was, the young woman pressing up against him and gazing up warmly made him uneasy. He decided to add, "From what I can see, they aren't equipped to handle anything dangerous."
Stretching up as she walked, Gretchen asked, "What color are your eyes anyway? Blue? Very light blue, almost like silver?"
"Grey. It looks as if the Spook Sisters have gathered some fans."
Seated on lawn chairs at a folding card table were two young women in matching outfits of white shorts and red cotton shirts tied across the midriff. They were surrounded by more than a dozen excited followers who were all talking over each other. With Gretchen still hanging on him, the Dire Wolf watched and reviewed what he knew about them.
Gossip is rampant in the Midnight War, even about those only peripherally involved. He knew the two Spook Sisters were from Albania but had become naturalized US citizens. They had become huge Twitch stars and YouTube celebrities, with an estimated combined worth of three million dollars. The taller one, with a thick ponytail which reached her shoulders, was Emmaline. The shorter, more animated sister was Alistar. They were famous for their constant trashtalking of each other and for the random daredevil stunts they staged. Recently they had been raising money to support a rescue animal sanctuary.
None of this particularly interested Bane. He was annoyed by the Spook Sisters because they rushed to the scene of any paranormal reports, where they walked around and streamed their opinions. He felt that they both scared away any Midnight War creatures and trampled over any evidence he might find. There was also the chance that they might encounter a Skinwalker or Troll and their careers would end abruptly as they were killed and eaten.
And now they were here, at the infamous Skull Beach at the same time he was. It was no coincidence.
Gently but firmly, he disengaged himself from the girl's grip. "I think I'd better talk to them, away from everyone else. They're heading for danger. Thank you, Gretchen." And he stepped away.
To his surprise, those huge brown eyes filled with tears. "What? That's it? I.. I am right here, almost putting myself on a plate as an offer and all you can say is 'thank you, go away?'"
Although he wasn't good at being gentle or putting kindness in his voice, the Dire Wolf tried. "I'm here on business. Very serious. I'm sorry."
Gretchen gave him a caustic glare, spun on her heel and stormed off stiff-legged. I'm really out of my element, Bane thought, I don't know how to deal with normal civilian Humans anymore. Then he heard a hoarse woman's voice calling to him from the Spook Sisters' table, "Oh My Godddd, look! Look, Emmaline, that has to be Jeremy Bane! You know, the Dire Wolf?"
II.
A dozen baffled young faces twisted around to stare at him with no recognition whatsoever. That suited him fine. Staying as unknown to the public as possible was vital to his survival, and he was not pleased at having both his real name and his war name shouted out like that. He stepped forward.
Both of the Spook Sisters had jumped to their feet and were beckoning him closer. "Hi, hi, hi! We're in the same line of work, we know all about you!" gushed the younger one Alistar. "You're a legend, absolute legend, your statue is in our hypothetical Monster Buster Hall of Fame."
"You are Jeremy Bane, right?" asked the older Emmaline with more restraint. "We've never actually met. Photos of you are hard to find."
"Hello," Bane replied without enthusiasm. "You're the Spook Sisters. Emmaline and Alistar Dibra."
"That's us, three million followers and merchandise available.."
She was cut off by her litle sister bouncing up and down in glee. "I can't believe it, I can't believe it, this is so great! The legend come to life. You know what they say: When you see a werewolf running for its life, Jeremy Bane is chasing it."
"Wait a minute..." began Bane but caught himself as he realized how big the crowd was, and how many eyes were fixated on him. "I want to speak privately with one or both of you."
Alistar rattled off a long laugh, "You and a hundred other guys here! EVERYone wants to get one or both of us off out of sight for a little 'talk.' Kidding, kidding, but holup I can see you're serious, you look like a judge about to read a verdict, not that I have ever been in a situation where I faced a judge..."
"Stop. Just stop," broke in Emmaline. "Honestly, the doctors say she doesn't have ADHD but I've seen her get distracted lighting a match. Mr Bane, please excuse her. I will go with you away from everyone and you can tell me what you want."
While Alistar slapped the table and announced that she would autograph any body parts not covered by a bathing suit, the older sister beckoned for Bane to follow her toward a garish bright green SUV parked up by the highway. By the time they got there, the few curious fans had dropped away. Emmaline leaned up against her car, fished a pack of American Spirit from a hip pocket and lit one up.
"We did recognize you right away. I never thought I'd meet you."
Decades of experience and Kumundu training made it automatic for Bane to assess this women in great detail. From body language and micro-expressions and subvocal tremors, he concluded she was not under any unusual stress. She was not intending to lie or deceive. From the way she walked and how she placed her weight, he decided she had not had training in any martial art or even street fighting. In a more general sense, Bane analyzed her appearance. Emmaline Dibra was in above average health but had a slightly diminished lung capacity for her age. There were signs she drank to the borderline of alcoholism. And she had injured her right knee recently, no more than a week earlier.
All this came to him in almost instantly. When he decided she was no significant threat either physically or psychologically, he relaxed in her presence as much as he was able to. "I'm not much for Twitter or Facebook or any of that, but I've heard of you and Alistar."
"Yeah, you don't have any online presence. That's odd. You could be pulling in serious money with a little exposure."
"Miss Dibra..."
"Please, call me Emmaline. That's what Alastir and I were wondering about you. You've been at this forever, but everyone says you don't charge fees and you don't ask for donations. How the hell do you make a living at this game?"
She looked up straight into Bane's pale grey eyes and felt a slight shiver at the impact those eyes held. Her cigarette burned unnoticed between her fingers as she started to wonder about this man.
"Emmaline, then. We are not in the same business. You provide entertainment for your fans. You walk around a darkened house or graveyard and they get a cheap thrill at the trappings of horror. But there's never anything actually supernatural there. It's a fun little game."
"Well, of course," she snorted. "What else could it be?"
The Dire Wolf took his eyes off her and looked back of that Springbreakers on the beach. He folded his arms across his chest. "That's fine. I'm not going to try to convince you differently. The less you know about the Midnight War, the safer you are. Think about this. You know there are groups of brutal, heartless people in the world who use torture and murder as basic tools. The drug cartels, espionage organizations, human traffickers. If some of them hauled you off in a black van, you'd never be seen again. Am I right?"
"Well...yeah. I don't like to think about that stuff. But what's that have to do with our game?"
"I'm not part of your game. I'm from a different, secret underworld that exists unseen all around you. I deal with threats like those killers from drug cartels or spy agencies, only more dangerous. That's why I want to warn you and your sister not to stay in Hallowell House tonight."
That made Emmalina snicker, then snort, then surrender to a full blown guffaw. "Heh. Give me a second. Oh come on, Jeremy. You put on a good act but let's be serious. Alistar and I will make enough tonight for a cruise around the Aegean. I've always wanted to see Greece. Don't try to scare me off. Man..."
Bane did not visibly react and his voice remained detached. "All I can do is warn you. Your safety is your own business."
III.
Defying all forecasts, cold rain had begun coming down at eleven that night. The beach had emptied, with scattered blankets, hats and frisbees left as prints of the partiers. An attempt at building a bonfire had gotten nowhere against the drizzle. Only thirty people remained, gathered not down by the water but up by Hallowell House.
Huddled under umbrellas and blankets draped over their heads, diehard Spook Sisters fans watched as Alistar and Emmaline held up their Iphones and recorded the scene. They had not brought their usual equipment or assistant. Two uniformed police officers had been watching for a while but had been called away to more crucial duties. There didn't seem to be any impending trouble here tonight and the rain had driven the Springbreakers to invade local bars.
Off to one side, his collar up but otherwise unmoved by the chill drizzle, Jeremy Bane watched unhappily. He had seldom felt more conflicted. Those two young women, unarmed and untrained, were going into Hallowell House in a minute to dare any forces of darkness. Normally, he would dismiss this as mere show business but a nagging sense of alarm troubled him. He had learned to trust his instincts.
The Spook Sisters were sharing a clear plastic umbrella and, as seemed constant with them, were arguing. "I'm so wet I might as well just lie in down in the rain and get it over with," Alistar griped. "This is like the day you didn't pick me up at school, remember? Seven years old, standing in the downpour and shivering for HOURS because you forgot all about me, I stood there and watched the bus pull away but did I get on? NO! Because I trusted my big sister to come get me..."
"Alistar! You know the car wouldn't start and I couldn't even text you because you had left your kid phone on the breakfast table again." Emmaline caught herself and turned back to the crowd, holding up a sheet of paper safe within a sealed plastic envelope. "Friends, I have here written permission from Mr and Mrs Francis Gwynneford to enter the property as they will. In return, they have asked that we donate all of tonight's donations to their chosen charity, the St Theresa Home for Children. Can we all agree that's a worthy cause?"
Amid the enthusiastic cheers from the crowd, Alistar could be heard muttering, "Minus our expenses for this trip, that hotel room cost as much as a good used car."
Keeping out of everyone's line of sight, Bane unclipped the Link from his belt. The Trom device looked like a remarkably thin phone no thicker than a few playing cards stacked together but it was decades advanced of anything Human technology could match. He found the Spook Sisters' livestream. Bane was not interested in social media but he had to know how to navigate for his work. Sound came in clear and sharp through the inconspicious flesh-colored earpiece he tucked in.
Glancing from the screen over at the front of the shack, the Dire Wolf frowned even more than his usual sour expression. Two dozen excited fans were yelling questions and encouragement. For all they knew, this was going to be like taking a tour of an amusement park haunted house. He prayed that would be all it was, but he didn't have much hope.
The younger sister placed one hand on the padlock holding the gate shut and held up two keys on a red cord. "They trusted me with the keys because Emmy loses everything, when she gets old and gets dementia, no one will be able to tell, one time she called me to say she couldn't find her phone and I was like dude, how are you calling me and she goes oh yeah.."
"Do you need help unlocking that, dear one?"
Managing to get the gate open, Alistar started ranting into her phone, "There you are, the first time anyone has been in this yard for thirty-one years, yes that was when someone going for a walk at dawn saw a humanskull sitting at the door of this hut, yes! A human skull. All that was over found of Lorraine Halloewell, that poor woman, and after the police were done poking around, her family locked everything up and swore to leave it untouched until it fell down. But we are here! Tonight! And your favorite ghostbreakers the Spook Sisters will show you inside..."
Interrupting her younger sister once again, Emmaline said, "That is why this area is known to locals as Skull Beach, as I'm sure all you lovers of unsolved mysteries know. Over the years, people on this beach have reported seeing a flicker of eerie blue light in the windows of Hallowell House or heard a woman's scream echoing out over the waters. Yet it's obvious even from outside the gate that the seal on the door has not been broken and the windows do not open."
"Will you PLEASE let me finish?"
"I would if you ever did finish," snapped Emmaline. "Let's get the door open while it's still nighttime."
Not amused in the slightest by the banter, Jeremy Bane watched the scene with cold rain dripping down his face. He was so annoyed by the Spook Sisters that the temptation came to him he should leave them to their choice. He had a comfortable warm dry hotel suite waiting a hundred yards away. But no. All his instincts told him the Midnight War was stirring tonight.
Alistar unlocked the front door and pulled it open. "Listen to those hinges creak, very atmospheric I'm sure, got your giant Maglite ready?"
"All set," replied Emmaline. The two sisters stepped through the doorway and those outside watching caught a glimpse of the interior. Without warning, a gale-force blast of cold wind rushed over the area to make everyone shudder violently. And the wind slammed the door shut again.
Bane could hear fans saying how that wind couldn't have been faked and maybe this time the Spook Sisters were going to encounter the genuine Unknown. He thought the same. The prospect didn't excite him as it did the crowd. He was ready to intervene.
On the livestream, hundreds of thousands of people worldwide saw the long-hidden inside of the Hallowell House as the brilliant beam of the flashlight moved over simple furniture covered with decades of dust. There were framed photos on the walls, a small black and white TV on a stand, a single shelf with a handful of paperbacks. Cobwebs stretched across the corners of the room. There did not seem to have been running water, as no sink or toilet was in evidence but a gas stove showed that propane had been in use.
"I don't mind admitting I'm getting the creeps big time," Alistar rattled off in her usual flow of chatter. "This place smells dead, it's like when we had a mouse die in the walls, remember? Nothing covered up that smell, what did that woman die off anyway, what happened to her body and how come only her skull was left outside, I dunno Emmaline, do you feel like someone is in here with us..."
"Hush for a minute, just one minute," pleaded her older sister. "I think I hear someone breathing."
As she said that, her flashlight flickered and went out.
IV.
The crowd outside the shack took a collective gasp but then fell silent. On their screens, they saw the faces of the Spook Sisters as the two young women turned on the flash of their phones in near panic. But the relief of the fans was brief. The livestream started to break up, both image and sound became dim.
"Do you see those faces?" demaded Alistar, "There! And there! They're laughing at us, Emmaline, the faces are all around, they've getting closer..."
At the edge of the crowd outside, Bane snapped off his Link and clipped it back on his belt. The silver daggers sheathed to his forearms under his sleeves had been growing warm and now they were so hot they stung. Malicious gralic energy was nearby. There was no reason to wait any longer.
"Emmaline, Emmaline, my phone went dead! Where are you?" screamed Alistar.
The Dire Wolf shoved roughly through the crowd and through the open gate. He planted his feet, drew torque up through his body into a blow from his open palm that snapped the lock on the front door and he dove inside. A second later, a great gout of black smoke shot out from that open doorway to dissipate in the rain. Then Bane emerged with an arm around each of the Spook Sisters, still gripping a silver dagger in each hand.
The three of them tumbled to the dried dead grass in the yard outside the shack. Steam rose from their bodies as if they had been yanked out of a furnace. The agitated fans rushed over to kneel beside them, all talking over each other.
Bane recovered instantly, up on his knees and then leaping to his feet. He sheathed his daggers with trembling hands, but then pointed at a nearby boy. "You! Call 911 right now, get an ambulance here." He had found that giving orders to an individual produced better results than just a general demand.
"It's not possible, I know that this doesn't happen because hair grows out from the roots and it can't change color like that..." Alistar was whimpering.
"This is not a natural phenomenon," Bane replied as he turned Emmaline over as gently as he could. She was in shock, her eyes did not focus on anything and she was shaking visibly. The long thick hair was white as cotton.
2/23/2023
